It was hot in late August, and we three sisters walked slowly toward the one-room schoolhouse to keep from kicking up too much dust on our new shoes. We weren't used to shoes, anyway, since we'd gone barefoot all summer...except for Sundays, of course.
When we reached the schoolyard we saw many of our friends who lived on neighboring farms. We seldom saw one another in the summer, because most of us helped with the farm work and had little time for playing. Ours was an unusual community, since we had several families who were first generation immigrants. There were German and Swedish friends. These children often spoke with a strong accent, which was looked upon with some curiosity by those of us whose ancestors had settled the area of Verona, Missouri.
There were no people of a different color than ours. Some of us had never seen a black or brown or red person, but most of us would have been angry if anyone had considered us backward. We were like the other country kids of that time in that area. There were no consolidated districts. No buses. No cars available to take us to school. We were Ozarks kids, and didn't realize we weren't as well off as anybody!
Maithel Davenport Martin
Kansas City, Missouri
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.